Talking Fish Dream: Reclaim Your Joy & Inner Meaning & Interpretation

"Last night, I had a dream about a fish. In my dream, I walked into a pet shop. Rows of glass tanks lined the walls. Colorful fish swam in every one. Red, blue, gold, black. One tank in the corner had only one fish. Small and silver. All alone. I tapped the glass. "Why are you by yourself?" The fish stopped swimming. He looked at me. Then he spoke. His voice sounded like bubbles rising in water. "Because I ask too many questions," he said. I jumped back. "You can talk?!" "You can hear me?" he said, surprised. "Finally!" I looked around. The shop owner was sleeping at his desk. No one else was there. "Am I crazy?" I whispered. "Probably," the fish said. "But that's not important. Listen. I know things about you." "About me?" I said. "How?" "I watch," he said. "From my tank, I see the whole world through glass. People come and go. They all look so worried. Like you." I stared at him. My reflection in the glass looked confused. "What do you know about me?" "You forgot how to play," he said. "You used to skip stones on lakes. Now you only count money." His words hit me like cold water. It was true. When did I stop having fun? "How do you know that?" I asked. "I told you," he said, swimming in a small circle. "Fish see everything. We just don't say anything. Usually." "Why are you telling me this?" I asked. He pressed his face against the glass. "Because you're the first one who tapped." Then the shop owner woke up. "Closing time!" he shouted. I looked at the fish. "I'll come back." "No you won't," he said. "But that's okay. Just remember me when you see water." I walked out of the shop. When I looked back through the window, the tank was empty. Then I woke up. I lay in bed, confused. A talking fish? Absurd. But that morning, on my way to work, I stopped by the lake. I found a flat stone. And I skipped it. One, two, three, four jumps. I smiled all the way to the office."